


Querelle A Trois

by within_a_dream



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-13 05:53:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5697451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/within_a_dream/pseuds/within_a_dream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Rome, they had fallen into a relationship. But as it turned out, being in love was harder than expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Querelle A Trois

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inlovewithnight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inlovewithnight/gifts).



> Thanks to Telm_393 for betaing!

Illya was late.

The three of them had split up to break into their scientist’s Buenos Aires mansion, agreeing to meet in a nearby park that night once they’d gathered the requisite intel. Gaby had been leaning against a tree for a few minutes when Solo sauntered in, a stack of papers dangling from his fingers.

“Where’s Peril?”

“Late.” She tried to keep her voice light, but the word came out tense, and Napoleon's smile faltered.

They’d split up that morning, and as silly as the feeling was, Gaby regretted the decision. Napoleon was sent to find proof of their target’s connections, Gaby to conduct reconnaissance, and Illya to investigate what they suspected was his laboratory, destroy any dangerous machinery, and take any plans that could help rebuild them. A simple enough mission—supposing that none of them were caught. They’d been given a timetable of the guard rotations, but these things didn’t always go according to plan. Men would go to great lengths to protect weapons of the magnitude that they suspected this house held.

It took an hour of skulking around the park, waiting for Illya and avoiding civilians, before either of them admitted they should head back to the hotel.

“We can’t be seen here,” Napoleon said, and Gaby knew he was right. If their quarry were to see them, it could blow the job. As much as she hated to leave Illya, it wouldn’t do him any good if they got themselves captured as well.

They returned to the park at dawn, not having spoken a word all night. There was this horrible gap between them, without Illya to connect their two disparate points. Gaby was beginning to wonder what they’d do if he never returned when she saw a familiar shape moving towards them across the clearing.

“You’re late!” she shouted at him, and Solo followed up with a, “Took you long enough, Peril.”

Illya grinned and waved, something flashing blue in his hand. “But I found the plans.”

She should have seen it then, how his smile wavered and his steps faltered. Easy to look back and say that, she supposed. The truth was, neither of them noticed that anything was wrong until they’d unlocked the hotel room, at which point Illya had collapsed, crumpling unceremoniously to the floor.

His jacket slipped open during the fall, making the cause (an unsettling bloodstain spreading across his white shirt) all too clear. The next few minutes passed in automatic action. Gaby and Napoleon stripped Illya down and carted him to the bed, Napoleon examining the wound while Gaby gathered alcohol and bandages. When she returned, Illya had begun to stir, attempting to get up as Napoleon pushed him back onto the bed as forcefully as he dared.

“You’ve been shot; you need to rest.”

Illya shoved Solo’s hand off of him, looking to Gaby for sympathy. “It grazed me.”

“And you didn’t think to tell us until you swooned in my arms?” She doused a rag with rubbing alcohol, and pulled up his shirt. “This will sting.”

“This concern is weak,” he said through gritted teeth as Gaby swabbed at the edges of his wound. “How can we complete the mission if you waste your time mothering me?”

Gaby didn’t bother to answer. To her surprise, however, Solo did.

“What good will it do us if you bleed out on the hotel floor?”

None of them spoke after that. After finishing the bandaging, they left Illya to rest and retreated to the suite’s too-small sofa, taking care to sit as far away from each other as possible. Napoleon broke the silence first.

“We’ll have to talk about this.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Shouldn’t we wait until the patient is awake, at least?”

“Illya’s right. This relationship is a weakness, and we should talk about it.”

If she hadn’t been so furious, she might have paid more attention to how tenderly he’d said Illya’s name. “Are you saying we break things off and pretend we don’t care about him until one of us sleeps with him and we have to start all over again?”

“That’s not what I said. We’ll figure out a way to work around it, that’s all. Which means we need to get Peril to talk.”

Gaby let out a breath. “Good luck with that.”

A cry from the bedroom interrupted their conversation. They nearly ran into each other in their rush to reach Illya, only to find him just stirring a bit in his sleep.

“We’re in love, aren’t we?” she asked Napoleon.

He looked at Illya, an unreadable expression on his face. “Hopelessly so.”

They were both sitting at Illya’s bedside when he awoke. He sat bolt upright in bed, wincing and pressing a hand to his side. “We need to—”

Gaby cut him off. “We need to _talk_.”

He looked to Napoleon. “We have work to do.”

“Yes, like discussing what happened yesterday.”

“We are professionals,” Illya muttered. “I don’t need nursemaids.”

Gaby sat down cross-legged at the foot of the mattress. “But you need teammates—we all do. What good is a team if you don’t tell us when you’re injured? How are we supposed to work together if you pass out on us?”

“And what will you do, give me a sick day?”

“We’ll cover for you, Peril!” Solo snapped. “Like partners do. If you’re not going to trust us, we’d all be better off working alone.”

Illya glanced between the two of them, his frown gradually fading into a sheepish half-smile. “All right. I should have told you.”

“You still haven’t told us, you know.” Gaby put a hand on his leg. “What happened?”

“I was too slow.” He leaned back against the pillow, shutting his eyes. “I meant to escape through the window if I heard anyone coming, but the grate was rusted shut. The guard got a shot in before I pried it off.”

“And why, exactly, did you think you needed to keep that a secret?” Napoleon’s words were harsh, but his eyes were kind.

“It was a silly mistake! I should have checked before I started on the equipment. I didn’t, and so I was shot.”

“Tell us next time, you idiot. We love you!” Gaby hadn’t meant to say that, and the shock on Illya’s face told her he hadn’t expected to hear it either.

“It’s hard to love someone who doesn’t tell you when he gets himself shot,” Napoleon said, leaning forward to kiss Illya’s forehead.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

 

When they reached the hotel after running for their lives through the Cairo desert, Illya pulled Gaby and Napoleon aside. “You told me you wanted to know if I was injured.”

Gaby nodded, wracking her brain for a time when Illya had been away from them for long enough for anything to happen. “What’s wrong?”

He smirked. “I seem to have scratched my finger.”

“Did you now?” Without warning, Napoleon lunged forward and tackled him. Gaby sat herself down on a nearby chair as their wrestling turned to kissing.

Then Illya grabbed her ankle and pulled her onto the floor to join them, pressing a kiss to her lips. She laughed as she grabbed his arm, and when Napoleon grabbed the other, Illya was well and truly trapped.

“That was cheating!” he muttered, trying in vain to throw them off.

This was much better than the last time Illya had ended up on the floor after a job, Gaby thought. She hoped that it would be the beginning of a new pattern.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Querelle A Trois (the Like Butterflies Around A Flame remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7570780) by [geckoholic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/geckoholic/pseuds/geckoholic)




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